


Your Ex-Lover is Dead

by Suzariah



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Death, Language, M/M, Non-Explicit Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-29 15:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzariah/pseuds/Suzariah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things are good with the Winchesters until the day it all inevitably turns sour when Castiel gets severely injured on a hunt and Dean comes to understand exactly what Castiel means to him.<br/>Written for 2013 DeanCasBigBang</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Ex-Lover is Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to Casamancy who made a really awesome art piece for this fic.

            The past eight years have been the smoothest, maybe even the happiest of Dean’s life. After Cas’s fall, things changed between them. They grew close, impossibly close to the point where Dean was almost as codependent on him as he was Sam. It was an unhealthy attachment, but Dean never could do regular relationships. It was just how he rolled.

            Cas had adopted a similar pattern after his fall. He relied heavily on Sam and Dean, once he finally accepted their invitation to stay at the bunker. It took a lot of convincing, he had a self-hatred complex large enough to match the Winchesters, perhaps even surpass it, but he eventually let it go enough that he’d let himself stay and hunt with the brothers.

            In Castiel’s post-fall sea of self-hatred he grew a romantic relationship with the older Winchester. Sam suspected they were in a relationship, but he never voiced his opinion. Dean didn’t want to tell him and Castiel agreed at the time, though Dean was embarrassed that his brother was even beginning to suspect their connection.

            It didn’t matter though, since it was at this point everything started to get better, a surprising development for the Winchesters, especially when their entire lives seemed like a downhill battle. Dean, Sam, and Castiel began hunting together. It was so much easier than it had been before. The demons were scarce with Crowley missing, having disappeared to who knows where, and the sight of fallen angels had sent plenty of other monsters into hiding. People were becoming more aware about the supernatural these days, though the media denied it continuously; saying the falling of the angels was just an, “unexpected meteor shower.”

            Not only that, but with the three of them combined: Cas with his endless knowledge, Sam who was in as good of shape as ever, and Dean with a new sense of strength and purpose, they were unstoppable. Things were for once, good.

            Which is why Dean really should’ve seen it coming when everything went to shit.

            It was just one simple hunt, a vampire on a rampage. Just one. Sam was even skipping; he met a girl at the local grocery store where he was now working part time. He was going to take her on a date, which made both Dean and Castiel happy since that meant Sam finally found someone to be with after all the years, plus the bonus of a motel room to themselves. It’d be fine, it’d be _easy._

            Dean walked into their motel room with a smile on his face, excited at the prospect of a quick hunt and later, a fallen angel in his bed. It was almost a ritual now, a celebration. Another monster down meant celebratory sex most of the time.

            Castiel seemed eager too, a knowing smile on his lips as they both shared a glance to the bed and Dean winked.

            “We could…”

            Castiel chuckled. “After, Dean.”

            It was always the same; they knew from past experience if they started now they wouldn’t get out of bed later to gank the thing. Still, Dean smiled and pressed a firm kiss to Castiel’s lips before going to his duffel full of dead man’s blood. It looked like it was going to be an easy hunt. Vampires were like stepping on a spider to them now.

            They set out around noon, the Texas sky burning bright, perfect weather for killing a vampire. They’d be deep asleep in their nest on a day like this.

            Dean opened the Impala windows, keeping one hand on the wheel and the other gripping Castiel’s hand between them. He usually disliked this kind of intimacy, it seemed like a typical “chick flick moment,” but it he was in a good mood, and Castiel didn’t stop smiling.

            It still shocked Dean sometimes how different Castiel was, how open he was with Dean in the way he held his hand or the way he opened the window to let his dark, messy hair blow in the wind. Even the way he wore the standard Winchester look of plaid and denim somehow made him seem more open and free. That first year he spent at the bunker had been rough, but now things between them were better. They even had a discussion, with Sam included, about giving up the hunter life for a little while and maybe finding real jobs. Dean had even briefly pictured himself adopting a kid, though he never voiced the fantasy. He knew it was out of the question. Plus, he couldn’t possibly imagine what Cas would think about the idea.

            Dean spared a glance to Castiel, at their joined hands then to his face and found himself thinking about it again. He could picture Castiel in a modest house, holding a little girl and staring at Dean with those blue eyes of his. The image was too sweet, it was the light at the end of the tunnel Sam always talked about and for once it actually seemed possible.

            Except it wasn’t, he was letting his imagination run far ahead of him. He’s already had a taste of the apple pie life and it didn’t work out then, why would it work now?

            “Are you alright, Dean?” Castiel asked in a worried tone, squeezing his hand.  But maybe Cas would want to have a taste of that life? The only human life he’s had is that of a hunter.

            Dean smiled reassuringly, trying to remove the image from his mind. “I’m good, Cas.”

            Castiel didn’t push, but there was obvious curiosity in his eyes as he turned back to the open window. Dean didn’t want to trouble him, but he was unsure how to ask what he wanted, or if he should even ask in the first place.

 With eyes still focused on the passing scenery Cas said, “You know, you can tell me anything.”

            Dean smiled sadly, “I know.”

            They’d adopted that phrase back when Castiel was thinking about offing himself and Sam was still recovering from the trials. It took a long time for Dean to work up the nerves to say it, and Castiel had repeated the sentiment only a few weeks later. Dean liked that part of their relationship; they’d learned how to tell each other anything. It’s probably the reason they are the way they are now, with no secrets or physical boundaries between them.

            They were only twenty minutes from their destination—a worn barn that was at the center of the vampire killings—and Dean wasn’t sure if he wanted to bring up this topic _now._ Not when they needed to talk about it for longer than they had time for.

            Still, as they drove he found it harder to keep his mouth shut.

            “Cas…” he started, pausing when Castiel turned to look at him. He was patient, waiting for Dean to complete his thought. “Would you….would you ever want to have a kid?”

            For a long moment, Castiel was entirely silent. It made Dean nervous, hell he was already nervous enough just asking. He refused to look at Cas, but eventually his hands started to shake and that’s when Cas finally spoke. “Dean, you do know I cannot bear children.”

            Cas was smirking and Dean’s nerves eased as he burst out laughing, his voice shaking slightly as he continued. “I know that Cas, I mean adopt or something. Maybe if we slowed the hunting for a while? Get some real jobs and have Charlie whip us up so awesome fake records and maybe get a house? I know Sammy would love it too. We could—”  Dean stopped, dammit this is why he didn’t do this kind of thing. The idea was so unrealistic. They lived in a bunker for crying out loud, they couldn’t just adopt a kid and if they did what would they do with it? Send it off to school? Or would Dean raise one like John did, travelling all over the country and force him or her to learn how to use a shotgun at age eight. Plus, why in the world would Cas want a child?

            “Just…forget it.” Dean finished lamely, attempting to extract his hand from Castiel’s but Cas held onto it firmly. Dean scowled, and turned to see that Castiel was beaming.

            “I’d love to start a family with you, Dean.” Cas said and Dean’s throat grew tight. “I would like that.”

            Dean stared for a moment at Castiel’s hopeful expression, completely astounded that he actually wanted the same thing. That maybe they could both give this horrible idea a go.

            Castiel’s brow furrowed in concern, but the smile did not leave his face. “Dean you should keep your eyes on the road.”

            Dean slowed the car to a stop on the side of the road before he hurriedly unbuckled his seatbelt and extracted himself from the driver’s seat to straddle Cas. It took a great amount of effort in the small space but he managed it in record time.

            Castiel breathed a heavy sigh as Dean pressed himself close and kissed Castiel fiercely, his tongue making its way into the man’s mouth before he pulled back, smiling hugely.

            “Awesome Cas, it’s nice to hear we’re on the same page.”

            Castiel smiled, placed his hands on Dean’s hips and pressed his forehead to Dean’s. “Let’s finish this hunt already. I want you now.” Castiel breathed, lips leaning in closer to Dean’s. Dean could feel the former angel’s breath in his mouth and it only made the fluttering in his chest intensify.

            “Yeah…Yeah let’s go.” Dean agreed.

xxx

            They were right about the barn; it was definitely the location for their vampire. If the small blood stains over the ground leading to the barn’s entrance weren’t evidence enough then he didn’t know what was. The problem was there were two possible entrances and based on the look Cas was giving him, he was going in the back way.

            He didn’t like sending Cas anywhere without back-up, but Dean nodded at Cas’s meaningful look and approached the front of the barn without further complaint.

            Dean opened the door silently as possible, walking on the heels of his feet over the hay littered across the floor. There was a slight rustle, not enough to wake a sleeping vampire, but it was more noise than he’d like. He stilled, waited for any sounds, but only heard the slight rustle of Castiel approaching from the other side.

            He took a silent breath and continued forward. There was enough light that he could see the barn in its entirety, but the corners remained dark. He didn’t see any sign of vampires, discounting the blood outside, but he was sure they were here. He could feel them; they were like a bad stench in the air.

            Castiel approached cautiously from the back entrance, poking his head in and aiming his dart gun, the bullets loaded with dead man’s blood. They simultaneously scanned the building, glancing from ceiling to floor in an instant. There was a loft in the barn, a small one but a single vampire could hide up there. There was also the roof to deal with, and the floor beneath them. It could be hiding anywhere really.

            Dean locked eyes with Castiel, and then deliberately looked to the loft, signaling him to check it. He complied quickly, silently climbing the tiny steps that led up to the loft. Dean watched him until he gave the all clear. He proceeded to the other side of the barn and shone a dim flashlight into the darker corners of the barn. For the moment, there seemed to be nothing. Still, he silently searched the premises.

            “Anything?” Castiel whispered after he searched the loft once more.

            “No.”

            Dean glanced back outside, to the small drips of red that colored the gravel. It was unusual for a vampire to be so careless, but it wasn’t like the blood was excessive. Just a few drips over the stones before stopping at the barns entrance, like he realized the leak of blood only before coming inside.

            Or…it was intentional.

            Dean glanced back to Cas. He was still in the loft, adjusting his weaponry.  Dean raised his own and touched the machete at his back.

“Cas let’s go, now.”

            “What is it Dean?”

            Just then, a loud hiss sounded. They both glanced up simultaneously as a vampire descended from the ceiling, falling straight for Cas. They raised their weapons and fired, the vampire crying out as the darts punctured his chest. His bloodied hands reached out as he fell, and collided straight with Castiel, sending them both falling from the loft.

            Dean threw himself forward, machete in hand as Castiel fell. For a moment, Dean forgot he was human now. He thought Castiel would just zap away and reappear unharmed, that his unseen wings would stop him from falling. Except, Castiel wasn’t an angel anymore. He hit the ground with a sickening crunch.

            “Castiel!”

            The vampire was still alive, now crouching over Cas’s quivering form. It hissed as Dean lunged forward, slicing its head off quickly. He kicked it off to the side.

            Dean leaned protectively over Cas, feeling panic well up in his system as he surveyed the damage, “Fuck.”

            Castiel was still conscious somehow, shaking with pain. He blinked rapidly, unable to focus as Dean’s hands cradled his face. The vampire’s hands had dug in when he fell onto him and Cas’s chest was a mess of open wounds in the shape of the vampire’s nails.

            “D-Dean. I can’t- I can’t heal.” Castiel stuttered out, his empty blue eyes searching for him.

            “Cas. Cas hey, I’m right here.” Dean hushed, bringing Castiel’s face closer. He seemed to see Dean for a moment, before his focus wavered and sent him looking beyond what was in front of him.

            “It hurts, Dean.” Castiel whimpered, his hands weakly fisting Dean’s sleeves.

            “I know. I’m gonna get you out of here, just hold on tight.”

            Shit, what was he gonna do. Should he move Cas? His back could be broken for all he knew, but either way, he needed to get out of here so he didn’t really have a choice.

            He took a calming breath, tried not to look at how truly bad Castiel’s injuries were.

            “Okay Cas, I’m gonna have to move you. We gotta get back to the Impala, okay?”

            Castiel nodded weakly; though Dean wasn’t sure he understood a word.

            “Alright, on the count of three.” Dean fitted his hands under Castiel’s back and legs. Nothing felt broken at the moment, but he wasn’t sure.

            “One.”

            Castiel’s arms reached around Dean’s shoulders, seeming to understand even though his eyes were now shut.

            “Two.”

            His hands gripped Dean’s hair and for a second, which Dean found slightly comforting. He still had a little bit of strength in him.  

            “Three.”

            Dean lifted Castiel and Cas let out an agonized groan before his head fell limply against Dean’s shoulder, his arms falling with them.

            “Hey, no Cas. You gotta stay with me, okay?” Dean whispered, planting a kiss to his hair as he stumbled to the Impala. “C’mon man, I can’t do all the work by myself.”

            There was nothing from the man in his arms. Dean shook him lightly, pleading for a response, anything.

            “Fuck. Fuck!” Dean shouted as he opened the backseat Impala door, laying Castiel flat on the seat. He made a whimpering sound as Dean placed him and with it, he felt a surge of relief.

“It’s okay man, I’m gonna get you home, alright?”

            The next few hours were torture. The last time he could remember feeling so scared was the time Sammy was falling in front of him with a deep knife wound in his chest. The impala’s speedometer was reaching its max, but it wasn’t going fast enough.

            He called Sam immediately, he felt kind of bad that he had to ruin his brother’s first date in years, but right now, this was important.

            They met at the nearest hospital and Cas was carried in on a stretcher with nurses buzzing around him as they went. 

            “What happened?” The doctor asked in shock as he attempted to work around the chest wounds. They were rushing to an emergency room to stitch up Cas’s chest.

            Dean didn’t care to make up a story right now, not when he could see the inside of Castiel’s mangled skin.

            “A guy attacked him and he fell.”

            “How far?”

            Dean thought back to the loft, cringed as he remembered the crunch of Castiel’s body hitting the ground with a vampire riding on top.

            “About 15 feet, maybe less.”

            It didn’t seem that high when he thought about it. They’d survive, under normal circumstances. Castiel might’ve been able to even land on his feet if that fucking vampire hadn’t dug his claws into him.  

            “He land on his back?”

            Dean nodded silently; Sam placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

            “We’ll do all we can.”  The doctor said as they rushed him behind those doors. Dean would have stopped, except just then Cas chose to wake up.

            “Dean!”

            He rushed through the doors as Castiel sputtered out his name, mouth leaking blood.

            Dean rushed to his side, the doctor attempting to carefully move Cas as he did so.

            “Cas, I told you to stay awake asshole.”

            “I can’t- I couldn’t...” Castiel trailed off, eyes filling with pain once again. “I don’t think-  Dean I don’t want to die.” Castiel whimpered out. Nurses were pushing at Dean to move so they can put him under. He didn’t budge.

            Tears stung his eyes, Castiel couldn’t die. Not _now,_ not when they were finally planning. Finally going to take a break from hunting and just...let go for a little while.

            “You’ll be fine Cas.” He said shakily. “It’s not as bad as it looks, I swear.”

            He didn’t believe his words even as he said them. Cas wasn’t going to make it. Still, he quickly pressed his lips to Castiel’s temple and whispered, “You’ll be fine.”

            Dean didn’t notice how the doctor watched this exchange with sad eyes, seeing the defeat in his expression. Nor did he notice his brother standing in the doorway, eyes brimming with tears.

            “Dean?” How was the fucker even still awake? The nurses were placing a mask over his face, he should’ve been out by now.

            “Yeah Cas.”

            Castiel’s eyes were clear of all pain for the moment. His hand reached up and tangled with Dean’s and he could tell that Castiel knew he had been lying.

            “Sorry.” He whispered out, before his eyes finally closed and he succumbed to his sleep.

xxx

            Sam and Dean sat in the waiting room, silent. Sam had called Charlie, told her to come if she could. Dean’s not sure what good it would do, Charlie shouldn’t have to deal with this. Still, Sam looked hopeful when she said she was on her way.

            The doctor, Doctor Adams had been sympathetic, and even went against whatever rule book he went by to offer if Dean wanted to stay in the room. He was about as hopeful as Dean regarding Cas’s condition. Dean declined, knowing what the end result would be anyway. He didn’t want those strangers to see him breakdown anyway when they finally gave the news. Actually seeing Cas flat line would be more painful if he was there for it.

            His breath hitched at that mental image and he immediately shut down the thought. He’d tried to keep his own pain down to a minimum while they waited. As much as he didn’t want the nurses or doctors to see, he really didn’t want Sam to see all that much either.

            “Dean?” Sam said after a while, Dean wasn’t sure how long. Doctor Adams had come in once and said they got the wounds sown up and some of the blood cleaned off, but that was it which meant things weren’t too great.

            “Yeah Sam.” Dean answered numbly, keeping emotion out of his voice.    

            Sam didn’t ask his question right away, he paused and Dean eventually turned to look at his brother, whose head was down and hair was concealing his face.

            “Were you guys….Did you-“

            Dean sighed, “You know the answer to your question.”

            “Right.” He said before adding. “Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have judged or anything.”

            “I know Sam.” Dean replied, giving him an attempt at a smile. “I just…You know, you figured it out before I did and so I guessed you could manage the rest. You never did like when I gave you details, Sam.”

            He chuckled half-heartedly. “Yeah, I’m just glad I never accidentally walked in on your details with Cas.”

            A memory of him and Cas hiding under the table as Sam walks in from a run surges into his mind. He and Cas had been having breakfast when Dean thought it’d be a good idea to feed each other off the other’s body. One thing led to another, then Sam walked in and they found themselves rolling under the table, clutching their clothes and failing to muffle their laughter.

            Sam had to have been listening to his music real loud, because he didn’t hear or see them that morning, just grabbed the orange juice and went off to the showers.

            Sam noticed must’ve noticed the look on Dean’s face. “I did?”

            Dean found himself actually laughing weakly at the memory, “Yeah.”

 He flinched at his thoughts, thinking of that night seemed like a classic, _he and Cas had some good times,_ kind of thing.

            Tears started to fill at the edge of his eyes. He leaned his head back, willing them to recede but they fell over the edge anyway.  

            “You know Dean, maybe he’ll –“

            “Don’t give me false hope Sam.” He said forcefully, his voice cracking.

            Sam nodded solemnly and Dean felt a touch of guilt for dampening his brother’s spirits. It was easy to forget that Cas is as much a brother to Sam as he is a companion to Dean. It was easy to forget those nights where Cas and Sam would talk for hours, geeking about whatever ancient text they had in front of them. He’d even dropped in on some more serious conversations—by accident of course—and Dean learned they had more in common than he could have imagined.

They have always harbored so much guilt in hurting Dean, both had a likeness for rebellion and Sam sometimes wanted to know how his hell memories were doing in Cas’s human mind. Cas never answered that question no matter how many times Sam had hesitantly broached the topic. Dean almost wanted to tell him to stop asking since it was clear Castiel was successfully keeping the memories away.  Course Dean hadn’t heard all their conversations, maybe Cas did talk about it sometimes. Maybe he only talked about it when Dean wasn’t eavesdropping.

Even thinking about Sam’s—Cas’s—hell memories made him want to puke. He was just glad that either of them never had to—

His thoughts froze.

“Sam.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think if Cas dies he’s going to end up in hell?”

Sam was silent, but his expression had fallen into complete horror. “You…You don’t think…” He paused, took a deep breath. “No, I know he’ll go back to heaven.”

Dean swallowed the heavy rock that was writhing in his throat. “What makes you say that?”

“He’s human now.”

“Don’t fallen angels go to hell?”

“I don’t think the normal angelic rules apply to him, Dean.”

He hated the traitor tears that wouldn’t seem to stop flowing from his eyes, now was not the time to be crying. But just the image of Castiel falling into hell, unable to fly his way out was just too much to handle.

“If that’s where he ends up I’m going to—”

“Mr. Winchester?”

Sam was looking at him with wide, furious eyes as the doctor approached with his clipboard. Dean tried to ignore Sam’s gaze, choosing instead to focus on Doctor Adams’ look of extreme discomfort.

“Yes?”

“Dean _no_ —“ Sam choked out, interrupting the doctor’s next statement. Dean silenced him with a look.

The doctor stuttered once and Dean knew what he was going to say. “I-I’m sorry, your friend didn’t make it.”

Everything in Dean stopped, his emotions, thoughts, everything.

Doctor Adams clearly wasn’t used to giving this kind of news. He looked at the brothers as if he was waiting for them to attack him, or simply burst into tears.

Dean couldn’t speak, no he was planning. He’d have to find a way to get Cas’s body out of here, and prepare for God or whoever’s been bringing Cas back from the dead. Why wouldn’t he? He’s been brought back tons of other times, why not this time?

“May we see him?” Sam asked, his throat tight.

“Of course.”

They followed the Doctor silently into a hospital room. Dean was numb, his mind empty of everything but the sound of their footsteps echoing across the hallway.  For once, he felt nothing when he saw the way his brother’s breath shuddered with emotion.

They entered the room and Cas was there on the bed, Dean wasn’t sure why he expected to find him alive, maybe it was given his past history of resurrection. He was disappointed, but no matter, he had more time to wait.

Sam stared, his expression scrunched with grief. Dean was tempted to remind him that Cas would be fine—he always is—but thought the timing was inappropriate.

Cas’s chest was grossly patched with stiches and bandages, it looked like the doctor had a hard time keeping the skin together. He can’t really blame him, Cas’s chest was a mangled mess. It looked good considering the circumstances.

“He lost too much blood, not only from his wounds but he had fractured several bones in his ribs and he had taken quite some damage to his spine.”

Dean winced, thinking of Cas’s back as he picked him up. He must’ve been in a lot of pain.

Sam sighed heavily, “Could you give us a moment doctor?”

He nodded and left without another word. Sam on the other hand, immediately put his hands on Dean’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. His brother’s breathing was ragged and pained, the hug was more for his benefit clearly. Dean was fine, Cas would be fine.

He gave a meager attempt to hug back, but he wasn’t feeling it. They just needed to get Cas out of here.

“Dean?”

Dean stared at the body, willing his mind to accept the image, but it just made him feel more empty. He will have to come back here later and retrieve the body, he’d rather get it before it was sent off to the morgue.

Vaguely he realized that his brother was repeating his name— in concern or sympathy he wasn’t sure—but either way it was grating on Dean’s nerves.

“What is it, Sam?” He said sternly, glaring at his brother who was standing a bit shorter than usual, his back slouched like he was carrying something heavy.

Sam was clearly trying to convey something of great importance as he gestured to Cas and then to Dean. “What do you wanna do?” He said after Dean remained silent.

“We’re going to get him out of here, sneak him back to the bunker and wait till he wakes up or God himself comes down to revive him.”  Dean explained like he was talking to a small child. Shouldn’t it be obvious? The doctors would be weirded out if Cas just got up out of bed and walked out the door with them, or if in the unlikely event God came down to special delivery an extra life. In either case, they needed to be out of here and prepared for when that happens.

Dean’s never actually seen Castiel come back to life when his body’s been this torn up. He’s always just…appeared. Intact and good as new. Except for maybe Emmanuel, but all he was missing was a few brain cells, as far as Dean knows there wasn’t a scratch on him.

Sam seemed disturbed by this plan, if his expression is anything to go by. “You think he’ll come back?”

“Of course he will.”

Sam’s face went blank before falling into a colder stare, an unsettling image to see on his brother, but he understood the necessity of it. If they were going to get Cas out, neither of them could afford to get emotional while carrying him. They’d have to be ready.

It didn’t take long to plan, they’re easily ready only two hours after they left Cas in the hospital. They’re parked outside, waiting for the best time to head in. There was a hard set to Sam’s jaw, Dean noticed, like he was holding something back.

“Spit it out.” Dean grumbled, frustration itching beneath his skin.

“It’s nothing.”

Dean nearly growled. They didn’t have time for this. Cas was in the goddamn hospital and Dean’s nerves were burning and fuck, he just needed Cas out _now_.

Instead of pushing the subject Dean shoved his door open. “Good, let’s go.”

Dean had been halfway out the driver’s door when Sam decided to finally speak up.

“What if he doesn’t come back?”

The words went in one ear and out the other; for Dean there was no other option other than Cas would be back. It might take some time, but Dean refused to believe that this was it. He had the light at the end of the tunnel, he was there, Cas was there and he can’t just turn around and head right back into the darkness now.

“He’s human this time around, it might be different.” Sam added.

“He’ll come back.”

“What if he doesn’t want to come back?”

            Dean didn’t answer.

xxx

            Two hours later and Cas is lying in a body bag packed with ice and other preserving necessities.  The ride home had been rough; carrying Cas’s dead weight had reminded Dean that Cas wasn’t really there. Halfway through the drive home Dean just couldn’t stand the feel of Cas’s cold skin and lifeless body in his hands and demanded to drive. Sam’s expression had gone colder, but at least he didn’t protest when Dean took the wheel.

            They laid a towel over him and Dean has just been sitting and waiting since. He didn't dare leave the room, wanting to be present for whenever Cas woke up. At the same time he was terrified that Cas wouldn’t wake up with him there at all. He had never been sure how this whole thing worked, whether God came down and personally hand delivered his new life to him or if Cas just woke up fine each time. Dean had always assumed it was the latter.

            It was two in the morning when Dean finally stood and contemplated taking a break. His mind drifted while watching his lifeless fallen angel. He thought about how they were thinking about buying homes and families, something Dean didn’t think he wanted, especially after Lisa and Ben, but he wants it with Cas. He wanted it so bad with Cas.

            “You better hurry up buddy, someone might take the chance to grab your sexy ass, you never know.” Dean said to Cas’s still form, he hoped someone could hear him. “C’mon, you know how much I like this vessel.”

            The artificial levity in his voice didn’t make him feel better, but at least it felt like somebody was listening.

xxx

There was something off about the image in front of Dean. It wasn't real, he knew that for sure. Reality was blurry, out of focus to the point where it took little effort to be ignored. For the moment, all he understood was that Cas's body was warm and even though Dean knew that wasn't right, he didn’t care.

 He couldn’t remember how they got to the beach, or how they ended up naked. He didn’t remember them making love, which he knows they did given the echo of pleasure in Dean's body. Nor does it make sense for them to make love on the beach, out in the open. Castiel would complain about sand in his ass and Dean would normally be paranoid about setting necessary salt lines and making sure his knife was within reaching distance.

            Instead there were no clothes to be found, Cas was warm and the gentle lap of water at their sides felt like liquid peace. He knew the sand wasn't irritating enough to be sand and Castiel's grip on him wasn't exactly right, but he liked it. He was warmed by it.

            "Dean." Castiel liked saying his name for no reason, this at least was not out of place.

            Dean smiled, forgetting that he was supposed to be suspicious. "Cas." He replied teasingly.

            "Will you forget about me?"

            Worry coiled in Dean's gut. "Of course not, why would you think that?"

            The former angel's eyes looked away, separating Dean from the open sea. The water shrunk back, no longer a calming presence on their skin. "Sometimes you need to forget your pain, Dean."

            His words confused Dean, yet they somehow made sense. There was a small store of logic in the back of Dean's brain that said these words were important in some way; they held a clue as to what's going on in reality.

            "I'd never forget you, Cas." Dean said with conviction,  it was an unnecessary statement. Of course he would always remember Cas, it would be impossible to forget given what he's been for Dean. What he’s done, how much he means— it scared him sometimes. “I wouldn’t want to, you planning on going somewhere?”

            Cas peeked up at him again, his eyes changed, now turned a sickly black and green color.

            "I don’t know.”  Was all Cas said, before the tide came in and swept him away.

xxx

            "Dean, you okay?" Sam said hesitantly, opening the door to Dean’s room with immense discomfort. "I heard you screaming for Cas, I was hoping you got something from him."

            "No… nothing." At least he wished it was nothing. His dream left a bitter aftertaste on his tongue and shivers in his bones. Knowing that Cas is down the hall in a body bag of ice is enough to make Dean gag.

            Dean's still managing logic though, holding onto his sanity by small little threads. If he knew Cas was gone for good, he might be panicking now. But his angel has always been practically immortal, indestructible. Well, not indestructible considering he's been blown to pieces on more than one occasion, but he's always come back in one piece. Always.

            Plus, Castiel promised he wouldn't leave again. A simple thing like death shouldn't be able to stop Cas.

            Today, Dean went about as he normally would. He and Sam sat at the command center and filtered through some unread Man of Letter documents. There was still a ton to look through even after so many years. Dean wished they were through with them while simultaneously never wanted them to end. Sifting through them was an insanely boring task some days while others they proved to be useful.

            Sam was on edge, though he's trying to act normal. He spared Dean a glance every few moments, as if he him to break. He won't, unless breaking includes slapping Sam upside the head. Cas will be fine, he has to be.

            It's a good thing that God or some higher being out there seemed to like Cas, whoever it is, he's grateful that they've brought back Cas so many times before.

            "How'd your date go?" Dean asked Sam randomly, he’d nearly forgotten his baby bro went on a date.

            "Okay,” Sam replied without much enthusiasm. “I guess it went well, I haven’t thought about it much.”

            Dean nodded in assent. His brother was just as worried about Castiel as he was, surely. Seeing Castiel’s body was still itching at the back of his mind, growing in strength as he waited for Cas to just wake up. The longer it took; Dean knew he’d break sooner or later. It was only a matter of time, he’d hold off as long as he could.

            In the meantime, Dean wondered around the bunker, looking for hidden rooms since they seemed to pop up pretty regularly. He tapped the walls absent-mindedly, listening for hollow spots or hidden levers. The bunker was seven levels of mystery, and Sam and Dean still have only scratched the first few levels. There was still the few rooms both of them refused to go into, given the fact they were locked up with tons of magic that neither of them was willing to tamper with. Whatever was locked up behind those doors was going to stay there as far as they were concerned.

            Though Dean somehow ended up at the entrance to one of these rooms, the symbols glowing a menacing red as he approached. He could feel the itch to open the door, curiosity peaking as the symbols pulsed warmly. It almost seemed to call to him, the door, whatever was behind it. So much so that he could hear it almost like a voice in his head.

            _I can help your friend,_ it said.

            Without his permission, his hand reached for the knob of the door. His mind was momentarily empty, all the information forced out to make room for the giant lock he had in place over his emotions.

            His hand had nearly reached the knob when he stopped.

            Dean straightened, felt momentarily tempted to call for Sam to stop him from doing anything stupid. Dean knew better though, none of these monsters would ever really help, they only ever caused more suffering.

            “No, no you can’t.” He replied easily, barely tempted to reach for the door now. He could almost hear Cas’s approval as he turned away. Cas would be fine, he didn’t need any help from the things they fought.

            He wondered down another hallway, towards their dungeon. Cas didn’t like the dungeon so much, after his fall torture seemed to bother him more, understandably. Dean didn’t like it either, reminded him of hell, but more often than not it was necessary.

            Castiel was still a badass though and it made Dean laugh to think of how the demons cowered from him even as a human.

            Dean passed by the dungeon, ended up heading back to the main floor and into the kitchen where he found Sam at his laptop.

            “Cas up yet?” Sam said without looking away from his screen. His face was still off, not the usual brightness he was becoming accustomed to seeing in his little brother. Hope, that was it. His brother had started looking hopeful at some point in the past few months.

            “No.” He said and Sam’s face seemed to get darker. “Don’t give up hope yet, Sam.”

            Usually it was the other way around, Sam telling Dean to not give up hope, but Dean needed his brother to be hopeful, that was always his thing. Light at the end of the tunnel, Dean had nearly reached it, Sam too, they couldn’t start falling in the other direction again.  They were so damn close this time.

            Sam looked at him with glassy eyes. “It’s hard to see him like that Dean.”

            “It is.”

            “You really think he’ll come back again? Just like that?”

            Dean forced a poor smile. “Yeah, I do.”  

xxx

            Castiel wasn’t up yet. His body was decomposing more and more by the hour, the smell starting to become foul whenever Dean entered the room. He couldn’t stand it; he had to leave every time he made an attempt to enter. He didn’t want to even think about Castiel rotting away, let alone smell it.

            “Dammit, would you just fucking hurry up already?” Dean shouted to the ceiling, hoping the sound somehow reached whoever was meant to hear it.

            Tears were starting to sting the back of Dean’s eyes, whether because of the smell or the fact Castiel was starting to rot he wasn’t sure. Either way, he forced them back, repeating the mantra “he’ll be fine,” for the hundredth time.

            “Dean?”

            “I’m fine, Sam.” Dean waved him off.

            “Go to bed Dean, maybe he’ll be better in the morning.” Sam said with a weak smile. He was trying, but it didn’t make Dean feel better, it wasn’t convincing enough.

            “Nah, I think I’ll stay out here, if he gets up I’ll hear it.”

            Sam nodded stiffly and continued down to his room. Sam would have moved out soon, Dean thought. He was anticipating it, but now he’s unsure. For so long Dean wanted nothing more than to have his brother practically chained to him so he couldn’t run away, but now with the knowledge that Sam would always keep contact and Dean would never be _really_ alone with the way things were with him and Cas, he kind of wanted that for him. He wanted his brother to go live that life he’d always dreamt of. Not the apple pie life, they’d never really have that, but they could get pretty close with the way things were now. Sure, he still needed his brother like he needed air, but he knew that Sam’s dreams weren’t staying at the bunker, waiting for a hunt until he was old and gray.

            Hell, Dean’s life would probably be with the hunt even if he did go settle down in some modest house with Cas. It was the way he was wired; he could go live a normal life with a normal job as long as he still had this one. The one that saves lives and is as part of him just as his soul is a part of him. That was his problem with Lisa, he tried to stuff that aspect of his life under lock and key, but it came back to bite him in the end.

            But he and Cas, it’s different. Cas wouldn’t want to give up this life either, not completely. It’s ingrained in Cas to help people, whether it’s by fighting demons or lending change to a stranger.

            Dean leans his head against the cold wall separating him from Cas’s body. He tries not to think of it cold and rotting. About the fact that last time Castiel was brought back to life he was missing his memory.

            He squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out all the images rushing to the forefront of his mind. When Cas woke up they were going on a vacation. A few weeks away, wherever Cas wanted to go. Cas seemed to like camping and fishing, said it reminded him of Heaven.

            But Cas’s chest was still torn to shreds and his heart still wasn’t beating and how is Dean supposed to just sit here and _wait._ What was he supposed to do? Plan a “Glad you’re alive!” party and just hope he shows up? There were the obvious solutions to quicken the pace, which Dean knows better not to do. Crossroads deals forever off limits. Dean’s already searched the bunker hoping to find something that would help, but they don’t have anything that brings people back to life.

            Dean sighed heavily, keeping his breath even so he didn’t panic. It would be just so easy to break now, he wanted to.

            What frightened Dean the most was that the clock read 3am now, and Cas has been dead for about a day and a half. Why wasn’t he alive yet? Did whatever force that always seems to revive Castiel notice that Dean was waiting and decided to hold off just to spite him?

            Given Dean’s luck, that was probably the reason. Well in that case he won’t fucking wait around. He was going to fuck off, it wasn’t that hard.

            Frustrated, he grabbed his keys and walked out the bunker to the Impala. The backseat was all fucked up from carrying Cas back. There was a small skid of blood on the backseat and Dean tried not to notice as he started his baby and hit the gas, dying to get away until he saw Cas standing happily waiting for him to come home.

            It wasn’t long before Sam called, he hadn’t slept much either. He’d only been driving for an hour or two, but he asked where Dean was and he honestly didn’t know. Some back road he’d never been on.  The new scenery was a nice distraction.

            “When you coming back?” Sam asked in concern.

            “Whenever Cas is good to go.”

            There was a weighted pause. “That could be a long time, Dean.”

            “Better not be too long.” Dean grumbled, hitting the gas a little too harshly.

            Sam didn’t respond, but Dean could tell he was still on the line from the sound of his breathing.

            “Charlie’s on her way. Kevin too.” Sam said suddenly.

            Something twisted in Dean’s gut. “Why’d you call them in the first place?”

            “They’re friends of Cas too, I…just thought they should be here for…you know. In case anything happens.”

            Dean’s grip tightened on the wheel. “You shouldn’t have done that, Sam. Got everyone worried for no reason.”

            He was already turning back, heading back the way he came. The roads were rougher and he’d have to stop for gas, so two hours tops and he’d be back.

            Cas had better be up and standing to greet him at the door.

            On the drive back, Dean had a harder time keeping his emotions at bay. Just the thought of seeing Charlie or Kevin for that matter made him feel nervous. He knew they were going to be upset, they had never seen Cas die, not like Dean had. They were going to express their sympathies and he wasn’t sure if he could deal with that. 

            Instead of heading straight back to the bunker,  Dean took a small detour to an abandoned park that Cas always liked to visit. He almost smiled seeing the familiar broken swing sets that they used to sit on. The wood was chipped and the chains rusted, definitely not comfortable, but they found it after a hunt one day and it’s sort of stuck as a meeting place ever since.

            Cas liked broken things. Broken toys, run down parks, withered gardens. Dean never called him on it, but he thought it was because Cas felt broken sometimes, after his fall. Probably even before that.

            They were all broken really; they’d all been through more than enough to last a hundred lifetimes. This was just another trial they’d push through.

            The swing nearly gave out as Dean sat on it. The wood creaked and if he wasn’t wearing jeans, he’d probably have enough splinters to make toothpicks. 

            Dean sat there for a while, waiting. He was avoiding the issues, again. This is what he always did, evasion, except this was a little bigger. A little harder to ignore.  No matter how much he ran physically or mentally his problems would still be there at the end of the day.

There was movement out of the corner of his eye and for a moment, he almost expected Cas to join him, but instead a crow decided to perch itself beside him. It cawed loudly and ruffled its feathers before folding itself onto the rotted wood.

“Shoo.”

Dean waved it away, it didn’t budge of course. Just chose to sit still on the swing and look at him with eyes that seemed far to knowing for an animal.

“Get out of here.” Dean said, lower. He didn’t care really, but that was Cas’s spot. He was saving it for him. “You don’t belong there.”

The crow’s head tilted to the side and Dean inhaled sharply. It was bad that the simple action of a crow could lock him up like that. Even without the weird behavior the crow looked strangely like him.

“Cas?” Dean called out uncertainly, feeling like an idiot because Cas wasn’t _here_.

The bird cawed loudly in response to his call before pecking him on his hand and flying off.

“Ow hey!”

He’d gut that bird, next time.

An hour later Dean was pulling back into the bunker after his little adventure. A small piece of him might have died when he wasn’t waiting for him in the doorway. Still, it’s only been a day or so. He just needed to wait a little longer.

Instead, Charlie stood at the door, a sad smile on her face Sam was a step behind her, looking like he just went through the trials all over again. A blanket hung sadly from his shoulders and Dean hoped he wasn’t sick again.

Taking a deep breath, he got out of his car. “Hey Charlie, how’ve you been?”

Her hair was more a mess than usual and her usual nerd gear was nowhere in sight. Dean frowned, Charlie rarely lost the skip in her step, even when they were in dire circumstances.

She didn’t respond, but she did come forward to hug him. That at least was expected and Dean returned the embrace.

Her eyes were glassy when he pulled back, he felt tempted to tell her that Cas would be fine, no need to worry, but the words got caught in his throat.

“You’re a mess.” Charlie said shakily, wiping down the front of his jacket. He hadn’t looked in the mirror recently, so he really didn’t know.

“Yeah.”

Charlie and Cas had become friends over the past few years, though Cas still pulled the same confused look every time she went on about some show or movie that Cas hadn’t seen yet. Dean had been trying to teach him about all their references, but watching a lifetime’s worth of TV is a lot to catch up on. They still had to watch _Fight Club_ and _Pulp Fiction_ yet.

They didn’t say anything after that, Charlie looked like she was working up to something, but Dean didn’t prod. Sam on the other hand looked terrible with his eyes red rimmed and shoulders slumping more than normal.

“Why didn’t you call?” Dean asked inside the bunker, sitting down with a cup of coffee he’s too anxious to drink.

“You needed time alone.”  Sam replied weakly.

“I don’t need time alone when you’re sick, Sam. Is it left over trial mojo?”

Sam shook his head. “It’s just a cold. I’ll be fine.”

            “It looks like a hell lot more than a cold.” Dean spat, his fists clenching around the handle of his coffee mug. “Sam, I got Cas lying in a bag of ice without a pulse, I can’t have you out for the count too.”

            Sam’s eyes had gone downcast, as if the reminder had furthered his illness and for the first time in the past twenty-four hours, Dean felt something. He felt bad. Not because he harassed his brother for being sick—which maybe he should feel bad, it wasn’t really Sam’s fault—but for making him feel worse.

            “I’ll be fine.” Sam responded weakly, it wasn’t the most convincing argument, but at this point in their lives Dean was sure Sam would tell him if something was really wrong. Of all times for trial illness to come back it would be now. Last time Sam got sick from it was months ago.

            Charlie was staying in one of the many guest rooms the bunker had in store. She said she wanted to see Cas in the morning, Dean didn’t think it was a good idea. Mostly because of the stench of death reeking from where they had Cas’s body. There was something in her eyes when he mentioned it wasn’t a good idea, a plan maybe.

            If Charlie has a plan to somehow revive Cas he wanted to know about it, but considering the fact she had yet to tell him, he figured that wasn’t it. Something else then.  It could wait.

            Dean returned to his perch from the night before, his hands itching for the keys to flee as he sat down. Out of sight out of mind, but he was going to stay tonight, on Cas’s doorstep. He’d be up by morning, surely. God or whoever must’ve noticed by now that Cas needs another life to spare.

            Just in case, Dean prayed. Last time he prayed was when Castiel was an angel, he swore he’d never pray again, it was…weak. But he’d do it for Cas if he had too, if it was to get the upstairs department in gear and snap to reviving Castiel.

            A thought snuck into Dean’s head on this train of thought. If it was someone from Heaven was constantly reviving Castiel, then they wouldn’t be in heaven anymore. They’d be on Earth, powerless even. They couldn’t revive Cas—

            He stopped the thought there. Cas would be fine, if not Dean would make sure it would be fine.

xxx

            Castiel was sitting on a familiar bench, in a familiar park,  wearing the trench coat and tie Dean hadn’t seen since his fall. The angel—Dean could feel the power, he was an angel in that moment—turned and smiled as Dean approached. Warmth spread through his bones as he sat beside his friend and watched over the children, playing without a worry in the world.

            “Hey Cas.” Dean said, smirking.

            “Hello, Dean.”

            It was nice to hear that voice again, he couldn’t remember why he’d been consciously missing it, but it was nice to hear again all the same.

            “I don’t think I’m coming back Dean.” Castiel said and for some reason, this made his whole body practically convulse with unease.

            “Of course you are.” He replied forcefully. “You always come back.”

            Castiel hummed, “Maybe, but it won’t be the same as before.”

Dean considered his words, they were important somewhere. But not here, they held no meaning here. This was a memory, sort of. Different words spoken, but the same place as before.

            “I’m dreaming.” Dean stated simply.

            Castiel gave a low chuckle, “Of course you are, how would you be talking to me if you weren’t?”

            He shrugged, why couldn’t he just talk to him in person?

            “There’s a healer that you could contact, but Dean, don’t do anything….foolish on my account.”

            “I can’t say I won’t.”

            “I know.”

            There was an audible pause as Dean’s mind twisted with images of Cas’s bloody form, the trip from the hospital back to the bunker. Everything now made much more sense.

            “You’re dead.”

            Castiel nodded solemnly.

            Dean leaned farther back into the bench, fiddled with the zipper of his coat. “I’ll definitely do something stupid then.” Dean said, not meeting Castiel’s eyes.

            “I don’t want you too.”

            It was strange how Castiel could be here and Dean could hear his depth of voice or see his blue eyes exactly as they were, in perfect detail. He has decent memory despite all the blows to his head, but this was beyond memory, like he was really there. There’s not a thing out of place from the hairs on Castiel’s head to the children playing in the park.

            “How can you be here? Are you—“

            “Yes, it’s actually me Dean.”

            If it weren’t a dream, Dean would have jumped up from the bench and onto Cas.  But apparently he had no control over his body, so he remained still.

            “How did you- how are you?”

            “I don’t know.” Castiel squinted out into the crowd of children, but continued. “I believe a piece of my grace or even my soul, if I have one, is latched onto yours Dean.”

It wasn’t all that far-fetched an idea considering how much contact their souls or have had over the past few years, whether it was Castiel flying his soul out of hell or their recent emotional connection, it made sense.

“It’s the only explanation I have. It would make sense considering our souls have gone through much together.”  Castiel said in contemplation.  He looked to Dean then and smiled softly, like he was pleased at the idea.

            Dean felt the old ache of where the handprint of his arm used to be. It’s gone now, the scar healed up, but Dean could still feel the small thrum of power in there every now and again.

            “That you?” Dean asked, except Castiel was fading, his face blurring before his eyes. His friend was waving, a more see you later type wave rather than goodbye. “No wait!”

            Dean’s eyes fluttered open.

There were distant images on the fringes of Dean’s mind, ones he should remember. They seemed important, like he was forgetting where the keys to the impala were rather than a passing dream.

But he didn’t pay attention to that now, because there were black shadows beneath his door, someone standing outside it? He dare not hope it was Cas, he couldn’t let himself hope it was Cas.

His brain, however, was a masochistic traitor. “Cas?” 

            Behind the door only found him in disappointment though, there was no one there. The only thing that was there was the empty hallway and the sound of soft voices coming from the kitchen. He padded down the hallway and pressed his head against the wall. He shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but in the moment, he didn’t care.

The first voice he heard was Charlie’s hushed tone, with someone—was that Kevin? Sam was there too, the sound of his quiet voice joining theirs from under the door.

            Dean couldn’t hear them entirely, but upon getting closer he could understand that at least part of the argument was about him.

            “We have to just ask him, this is his choice.” Charlie said.

            “He’s not in the right mind to make a choice.”  Kevin supplied. “It’s too painful for him, he can’t think rationally.”

            “We’ll we can’t just let Cas rot in-“

            “Good morning.” Dean interrupted, the word rot ringing in his ears.

            “Morning.” Sam replied, smiling weakly.

            His hands shook as he glanced between the three of them. The conspiring tones, the guilty looks, the way his palms were sweating. “What’re you guys up to?”

            Dean forced nonchalance in his tone, hoping it was something simple and they would just tell him. But Dean knew every face on his brother and this was a serious matter, Sam knew Dean was going to be mad.

“We should bury the body, Dean. Properly.”

There wasn’t much response to be said to that other than, “No.”

“Cas deserves better than-“

“Stop.” Dean said forcefully. “Cas isn’t some normal sap here Sam. He’s been brought back to life who knows how many times!” And he’d be brought back again, just like every other time. It just might take some time, for God’s sakes it hasn’t even been that long.

Charlie stepped in front of Dean, a pleading look on her face. “Please Dean, it’s so…wrong to see him like that.”

“Like what? Dead?” Dean growled. “I’ve seen him dead before and he’s always come back.”

“Then why don’t you go look at him now, Dean. He’s freaking decomposing in there; you want to just wait it out? What if it’s a whole month? A year? He’ll be a pile of bones.”  Sam argued. Dean wasn’t listening now, he couldn’t. Not if Sam’s argument turned out to make sense to him, then he would have to accept the fact that Cas would probably not be coming back.

Dean looked his brother in the eye, hoping he understood how desperate he was here. The very fact he still had Cas’s body should’ve been proof enough that Dean was at the end of his rope. Still he reached forward, put a hand on his brother’s shoulders. “Give it more time, Sam. Please.”

            The following silence was louder than the hushed voices and it was one Dean wished Kevin and Charlie hadn’t been present to hear. He was embarrassed, if he was being honest with himself. He hadn’t been speaking, thinking, eating, _feeling_ for at least thirty-six hours now, he was only experiencing small surges of emotion, a sip of coffee here and there. He felt like some lovesick lead in a romance novel who decided they’d go down with their lost love. It wasn’t like that, it was…Dean couldn’t explain it.

“Okay, three days.” Sam agreed half-heartedly. It looked like he didn’t really want to bury Cas either, from the unsettled shine in his eyes. But it was the right thing, to him. Dean could understand that. It’s easy to forget that Sam once had to bury him even.

Strange how he could separate his emotions from logic in that moment. He understood Sam he really did, respecting Cas’s body and all that, but Dean needed him alive. Just like how he could never bury Sam.

There must be something that could help Cas, Dean thought. He’d already searched through the bunker, looking for any objects that could heal. Healing wasn’t common among their cursed objects, especially since the Men of Letters seemed to be interested the more malevolent things of life. It had always been the same for the Winchesters too; they never picked up cursed objects that actually did good things.

Something jolted inside him, like a lightning bolt pulsing through his system. The something that could help Cas, it was inside him.

“I had a dream last night…” Dean started, small flashes of words and images coming back to him. “Cas was there, he said a part of his grace is tied with my soul or something.”

Sam’s eyes widened, “Really?”

“Yeah.” Cas on a park bench, telling him to not do anything stupid. Dean smiled, his Cas was still kickin, even if his body wasn’t.

Sam grinned then and the dark shadows over his eyes seemed to brighten a little. “You know, Cas once told me the same thing awhile back. Not too long after he fell.”

That’s strange, Dean thought. Cas never told him that and after his fall, Cas didn’t keep nearly as many secrets as he used to. “Really? Why didn’t he ever tell me?”

            Sam chuckled, “I think he was afraid of how he felt about you, Dean.” 

            Dean smiled, yeah he’d been afraid of how he felt about Cas too.

xxx

            The next three days consisted of research, Dean couldn’t remember the last time they spent so much time researching. He didn’t mind though, Sam helped along with Charlie and Kevin, all of them searching through every nook and cranny in the bunker looking for something that might help Cas. Dean didn’t have much time for sleep, but when he did he tried his hardest to remember the dream from the night before.

            Last night, he had dreamt of Cas telling him where to look but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t remember his exact words. He was just as clueless, but Dean still felt hopeful. Cas telling him where to look meant there was something around here that could help.

            In the end, it came down to a book that Dean found at three in the morning, in Cas’s old room of all places.

            He’d been avoiding it for his own reasons; he didn’t like to think about Cas in the room on the other side of the bunker instead of in here. Apparently Sam and Charlie had been taking care of it, but Dean couldn’t bear to go in there. Every time he even got near it something in him writhed and he just couldn’t.

            The fact that he wasn’t in it bothered Dean more than it probably should. He was more hopeful now than he was before, having a mission, something to do had helped his morale. Feeling useful rather than just sitting waiting for Cas to wake up gave him a renewed sense of determination.

            The only reason Dean ever went into Cas’s room in the first place was because, as he was passing it, he swore he saw a flash of beige, a shadow of blue. He was sure someone was in Cas’s room, but when he opened the door it was just his old trench coat, sitting on his bed like new. Dean didn’t know how it got there; maybe Sam had put it there one night.

            Dean had held the old coat, it still smelled like Cas. Like he had just taken it off after a hunt and was waiting for Dean in the shower.

            He had been about to leave, keeping the coat there for whenever Cas came back, but his eye caught sight of the nightstand. The drawer was open and inside was a book.

            The book had not title on the cover, simple, leather bound green. He opened up to the first page, briefly wondering if this was a journal or something Castiel kept. But on the first page the title jumped out and Dean’s heart stopped.

            _The Goddess of Healing: Airmed._

            With shaky hands, he turned the next page, hope flooding his system as he read about her history and magical powers. It was cleaner magic, the kind that Sam and Dean might question before going for the kill. Every few pages, there were little scribbles in the margins, Cas’s scribbles. Some of the notes were in Enochian, others in English.

            About halfway through the book, Dean finally found something he could use. A loose page, on it was several notes from Cas, at the top it read _Upon Death_.

            Cas had drawn a detailed ritual to summon Airmed. Cas had wrote several times around the page that it was only to be used in an emergency. He gave detailed descriptions of the ingredients and the behavior of Airmed, apparently they’d have to offer something in return, but Dean could do that, as long as it didn’t involve souls.

            There were some pagan elements to the ritual, some languages Dean would have to look into, but from the looks of it, it might work. It would work.

            “Thanks, Cas.”

xxx

            Sam had been excited when Dean brought out the book with the spell, he read most of the book in the short time span between when Dean discovered the book and when all the ingredients were gathered. Having a fridge full of lamb’s blood and enough rare herbs to make a botanist shit himself was always useful in these situations.

            Twelve hours and sixteen minutes later, the spell was ready and both Sam and Dean were ready to recite the incantation. They were performing it just outside where Cas’s body was, unsure of how the goddess would react to their request or if she’d even show up at all.

            Castiel had written down pronunciations and translations of most of the words, so it didn’t take long to memorize the spell. Thank God, because Dean hated memorizing spells.

            They had symbols all across the floor, candles in a circle, the whole witchy thing. Charlie had helped and done a little research online herself to make sure everything was safe. Course she didn’t find much, but it was enough to put Dean at ease. Not even the internet could match up to Castiel’s millennia of experience.

            The words started slow, Sam and Dean speaking them in unison, a low rumble in their throats. Charlie and Kevin were off to the side, watching carefully. The universal nervousness had less to do with what they were actually summoning and more to do if it was going to work or not. Most of the time they were summoning something dangerous, but today they were supposed to be summoning someone good, someone who could help them.

            The symbols glowed as their words rose in volume and power. Soon they were shouting them, the alien words booming from their mouths as the candles lit up one by one and an unforeseen force started to appear.

            There was a strong gust of wind and as the form appeared before him, he started to worry that maybe they shouldn’t have summoned this thing.

            “Dean Winchester, I’ve been expecting your call.”

            In the middle of the circle was a woman. Tall and very much godlike in the way she stood and stared at the two brothers as if she’d just received a gift from them. Her hair was long, brown and stretched to the floor where it met small flowers beneath her feet.

            “You’ve- You’ve been expecting me?” Dean stuttered, unsure of how to continue.

            She laughed with a certain smoothness in her voice that was nearly inhuman. “Of course, your little angel and I have already spoken.”

Dean took a step back as the Airmed took a step to the edge of the summoning symbols. She smiled at them fondly, “Oh, I have missed my work. I used to be summoned into war to heal the wounded, but in recent years few have called for my services.”

Dean hesitantly glanced from Airmed to Sam, who nodded and gestured for him to proceed. “I…I need your help.”

She smiled again, reached her hand out towards Dean. “Of course you do, why else would I be here? That sweet little angel fell again didn’t he?”

Dean flinched, the sound of Cas hitting the ground still ringing in his head. Instead of answering her, he nodded. The goddess’s hand was still outstretched, reaching for Dean, clearly a request for Dean to take her hand. Airmed didn’t seem like a hostile, though the fact she had already spoken to Cas without Dean knowing unsettled him.

“Oh, you both are so very alike. He saved you, you know.”

Dean frowned in confusion, “How- What do you mean?”

Airmed smiled, “Few months ago, you took a bad bite to the ribs from a Wendigo. I fixed you up in exchange for the location of Noah’s Ark.”

God, that had hurt like a bitch. They weren’t even supposed to have been hunting a Wendigo in the first place. It makes sense now, Dean was sure he’d been a goner.

Warmth and guilt flooded his system, Castiel had managed to save Dean so easily. Why couldn’t Dean just do the same for him.

“Wait, Noah’s Ark?” Sam said in shock.

“Well, what’s left of it.” The goddess answered. “Definitely worth it.”

“I need you to revive Castiel.” Dean announced, directing the goddess back to the matter at hand. “He’s…in bad shape.”

“Completely revive him?” Airmed asked, surprise in her tone. “How long has he been dead?”

Dean winced, “Almost 4 days.”

Worry creased the goddess’s brow. “I’ll see what I can do, I will require something very dear to the poor thing. Take my hand please.”

Dean finally accepted the goddess’s hand and out of the corner his eye he saw Charlie sigh in relief. “I have only ever managed to resurrect someone from death only once, do not get your hopes up Mr. Winchester.”

Dean’s stomach twisted, desperation filling his voice and mind.  “Please do whatever you have to.” 

The goddess nodded and then gripped Dean’s hand tightly. “I’ll need the sliver of Castiel’s grace that you carry in your soul, this will hurt.”

Without warning, Airmed shoved her hand to his head and then Dean was splitting apart, the feeling of claws scrapping across his entire being. Light so bright it couldn’t exist flooded his eyes. Some part of his very existence was being removed, coming out of his skin like it was some tiny splinter rather than something attached to his very self.

Distantly he heard Sam yelling, but it was unnecessary, a moment later the pain was gone and Dean slumped to the floor.

“Sorry, a piece of your soul wouldn’t let go of the damn thing. Had to rip it out too.” Airmed said gruffly before heading into the room with Cas’s body. Took out a piece of his soul?  

“Dean?” Sam asked, coming over to lift him from the ground. Dean didn’t budge, his legs were too weak to hold him up.

“Are you okay?” Charlie said, her voice coming from somewhere behind him. He was too weak to look back, but he gave an unenthusiastic thumb up.

Instead of holding him up, Sam let him on the floor, holding up his back slightly so he could watch the door. He was anxious, the goddess hadn’t sounded very confident and that scared him. He needed it to work, he needed it to-

The sound of screaming from the other side of the door sent Dean into a panic.

“Cas? Cas!” Dean shouted weakly, attempting to lurch forward.  He didn’t make it far, every muscle in his body protesting the action. Sam tried to help him sit up again, but he just fell against his brother’s side.

The door rattled, another scream that was most definitely Castiel rang through the door. Part of Dean was relieved that he was screaming at all, that meant he was alive right? What if he didn’t survive whatever operation Airmed had to perform on him to get him into one complete piece?

Sam squeezed his brother’s shoulder in sympathy as everything went quiet.  All Dean wanted to do was go in there and find out what was fucking happening.

Airmed came out a few minutes later, her hands bloody but a pleased, almost cocky look on her face.

“I did it; he’ll be in pain for a while though. It’s a good thing that little piece of soul of yours hung on Dean, he wouldn’t have made it without it.”

Dean’s heart stopped, Cas was okay, he was going to be _okay._

“I’m keeping the little sliver of grace as payment.” She said, pulling out a small blinking vial. “There’s no power to it now, but it’s a nice souvenir. Try not to die in the meantime, okay hon?”

And with that, the goddess was gone in a blink, leaving only displaced air.

“Cas?” Dean called out uncertainly. He needed to see his face, see that he was okay.

            A familiar man stumbled through the doorway, looking thin and tired, but he smiled in that way that always managed to fill Dean with so much warmth he felt like he was overflowing with it.

            Castiel knelt down beside Dean, took his hand in his.

            “Hello, Dean.”

  


End file.
